Writing

– Faulkner, delivering The Sound and the Fury to his friend and agent, Ben Wasson

Son-of-a-bitch, indeed. This book is unwieldy, uncompromising, and still worthy of attention.

One read through, I’m left with begrudging respect—what one might feel when a competition ends in a tie. The fractured narrative is maddening, but I love how it captures the particulars and limitations of individual experience. Like the Compsons, we’re bound by our own sense of time and place. We’re unreliable narrators. Our stories don’t match up neatly with one another. Shared experience is a wobbly concept. Frustrating? You bet. Welcome to real life.